An Eve – National Poetry Month – 4/7

I rush to sleep tonight

as others of similar youth as I rush into the night itself

I will no longer call it wasted,

Instead perhaps I will find me

calling myself rested tomorrow

That I do call a gift


There is always more gifts under the tree

In the morning

I will wake

And say to myself

I am me

And that is enough

Then I will leave my bed

And become so much more


I say to myself


You are the best version of yourself

You have ever been


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